


The End Of All Things

by tenlittlecockbites



Series: The 100 Prompts Challenge [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Fake AH Crew, Falling In Love, M/M, Slowish build, Undetailed smut, now with a brand spankin new summary!, prompt: sand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 01:53:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7665718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenlittlecockbites/pseuds/tenlittlecockbites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one where Gavin and Trevor fall in love at the beach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End Of All Things

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in my 100 Prompts Challenge
> 
> Loosely based on the song "End Of All Things" by Panic! At The Disco

First, there was Gavin. Born with a golden spoon in his mouth to a rich family in Oxfordshire and all the money a little kid would want. At age three, his mother signed him up for gymnastics, due to her history in dance. At eight years old his long limbs were more flexible than most adults. The summer of his ninth year he realized he had sticky fingers. At his ninth birthday party he stole his first watch (Which would eventually become his favorite item to pickpocket, the idea of time being manipulated so easily so appealing), it was nothing special. Gold with some silvery spots where it had worn away from the years and roman numerals that Gavin was too young to read. Nine-year-old Gavin decided right then that gold would be his color. Everything from then on out had to be gold, gold, _gold_. Watches, coins, jewelry, everything. When he turned eleven he received his very own laptop, and by twelve had mastered the art of hacking. He would stay up long after the sun set and wouldn’t shut his eyes until it was coming back up, numbers and words and names burned into his eyelids. He didn’t do anything with the skills he had acquired over the years until his sixteenth birthday, when he robbed his first bank. It was a stealth mission (His reputation for elaborate heists wouldn’t come until he turned eighteen and moved to the United States), sneaking out of his fourth story bedroom with an aerialist’s ease at three AM, hacking through seven levels of security, packing every last inch of gold, money, and diamonds into two duffel bags and a backpack, and making it back into his bedroom as his alarm clock rang at six AM. As he flopped onto his bed, kicking the bags under his bed in the process, his mother called him down to breakfast. Exactly two years later he moved to the United States, picking up small jobs. Mostly pulling off insane heists behind gold rimmed glasses and his golden gun, and hacking for hire (Mostly people looking to out their cheating partner or gangs who want information on the enemy, but he got the occasional oddity who wanted to bring down the Austrian Government from the inside out. Needless to say, he didn’t spend his second anniversary in the US celebrating Rather, he spent it with a gun to his head and a strange man with an accent fucking him in a cold basement against a wooden table that didn’t feel very stable) all under the codename _Vav_. He had learned the hard way that walking into a Sav-Mart to get groceries was hard when you were at the top LSPD’s ‘Most Wanted’ list. He as twenty two and it was Christmas when he received an important e-mail that Geoff Ramsey needed his help on a job. The idea made him set down his tea and kick one of his cats off his lap- he hadn’t been hired for a job that _wasn’t_ hacking before (He didn’t count the mishap with the Austrian government- he had returned home with only a few broken ribs and had managed to restore his dignity without calling his mother more than three times. He was okay. Really), he also certainly wasn’t going to turn down a job offer from the Kingpin of the biggest gang in Los Santos history. It was nothing huge- they needed him on field to get them through security and could use the extra gun after two of their key members left for freelancer jobs. So he said yes, and wondered if showing up all decked out in his gold gear was too much. (He decided it wasn’t, and didn’t miss the grin that broke out on Ramsey’s face when Gavin showed up, gold glasses and gun in all their glory)

~

Then, there was Trevor. He was the fourth child of his nine siblings, and was born three months early with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. “Those damn doctors should have let you die,” His father had said, scooping a small portion of mashed potatoes onto Trevor’s plate. The normal chatter of his siblings died down, and the only sound that could be heard was the baby sucking his mother’s breast. “One less mouth to feed.” Trevor couldn’t disagree with that, looking down at the mush on his plate, then over at his parent’s empty ones. He felt a soothing hand on his back, looking quickly at his mother’s kind face, her eyes wrinkling. “Don’t listen to him, _il mio amore_ ,” she said, and Trevor could feel her accent on his eyelashes, " _Io non so di cosa sta parlando Acerca I_.” Trevor just nodded. He was five then. On his seventh birthday, his mother gave birth to her first little girl. Dafne. He didn’t get to meet her until four days later- but as soon as his mother kissed all of her children’s heads, announcing that she was going to walk to the hospital (with his eldest brother’s help), he was thinking of how he could sneak down the fire escape to see if he could find a present for the baby. He managed to get out while his father dug around for any sort of alcohol or drug that they had in the tiny apartment and his brothers fought over the radio stations. Trevor had never been afraid of heights (Even when he was four and he was dropped two stories by his father, who had accidentally dropped him while ‘punishing’ him. For what, Trevor can’t remember. That was just what his father did- Alonzo had burn marks from cigarettes, and Nicola had a scar on his lip from his thirteenth birthday. Trevor had learned not to question his father’s method of punishment), so scaling down the rickety stairs, even with the constant threat of the stairs breaking or his father catching him, was easy. He stole a small toy from the gas station two blocks down the street from their apartment, a tiny bunny plush that fit in the palm of his hand (after he gave it to Dafne, his father had pulled him into the hallway and practically punched him into the wall. Trevor still had a scar on his back and there was still a dent in the wall). From there, stealing had become a regular thing for Trevor. Somewhere along this line his father had either stopped giving a shit or became too fucked up to notice when Trevor paid for groceries, his little siblings got new shoes, or his mother’s new dresses. On his eighteenth birthday, he was arrested. He had freaked out a little when his neighbor caught him sneaking in through the window, knocking over a plant in an attempt to get as much distance between the elderly woman and himself. Next thing he knew, he was lifting his head from his hands in a police station. He had blacked out. Somehow, he got himself out of there (Convince a guard to get close to the bars. Make out with them. Steal the keys. Get out. Knock out the guy. Walk out. It wasn’t rocket science) scot free, but there was no way he was going back home. His father had gotten himself in trouble with the police time and time again; he would be able to smell it on Trevor as soon as he got home. Especially at four in the morning. So he picked up his backpack full of stolen goods and money, called a cab, and caught the next red-eye flight to Los Santos.

-

Of everything there was to love about America, Gavin thought that the beaches were the best part. The rolling waves, the sand between his toes, the bleating sun on his skin. He even didn’t mind the loud seagulls that soared in the skies or the noise from the pier. England didn’t really have beaches- although he had been to his fair share. Ones even better than the Los Santos beach. Honolulu, Cancun, Brazil. But Los Santos was home- the littered beach couldn’t change that.

He had made up the excuse this time- he was on a job. Following a seventy-something-year-old man to prove that he was cheating on his fresh-out-of-high school wife. It was a normal job for him, one where he probably didn’t even _have_ to go out on the field (He already had more than enough information on the guy; reading through some e-mails and hacking into a few security cams was all he needed), but he was a hard worker- he could use a good beach day. He had been recovering for a few months from a heist he had done a few months prior, and had begun to get bored. He had outed four politicians of corruption and had assisted in getting three gangs caught by the police. Boredom was a horrible thing, his mother always told him.

_Bzz._

Gavin was broke from his thoughts as his phone buzzed next to him, Michael’s name appearing on the screen.

_**From: Michael** _

_**Geoff wants you to get some info from some guy causing us some troubl e, you in?** _

Gavin let out a long breath, eyes glancing up at where his clients’ husband splashed a busty blonde, causing her to squeal and splash back. He hadn’t been officially hired by The Fakes yet, but he could tell the offer was coming soon. Gavin didn’t think he’d accept- he was perfectly fine with taking the odd jobs here and there. He enjoyed making fools of politicians and robbing banks by himself, thank you very much.

_**To: Michael** _

_**Yeah of course I’ll stop by the penthouse sometime today** _

Gavin tossed his phone down on the blanket next to him as the text sent, leaning back onto his elbows. Going out was a good idea then. Tanning just a little bit more, getting his hair just a little bit blonder. Maybe he could steal something on his way home- that usually got him in the mood to go seduce someone until they didn’t realize what they were saying. Perhaps a diamond. Or a painting. Maybe a watch, for good luck.

Gavin looked down at the worn gold watch on his left wrist, turning it slightly so it glittered in the sunlight. The sight of it was grounding. Comforting, even. The tan line would be worth it, if not for the sentimental part of the watch.

Gavin felt a slight movement next to him, then a glint of gold that wasn’t from his watch. “If you’re trying to steal my phone, you’re doing a really bad job at it,” Gavin said, crossing his legs and looking straight forward at the old dude as he walked out of the water with blondie in his arms. How could a guy his age carry someone, even a girl that thin?

His new companion made a slight gasping noise. Gavin rolled his head to the side to look at the kid, whose fingers were loosely clasped around Gavin’s gold iPhone. His mouth hung open slightly, and was starting to back up slowly, waiting for Gavin to make a move. Gavin didn’t. Instead, looking the guy up and down. “Bloody hell, aren’t you hot?” Gavin was sincere- the kid was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and jeans that looked two sizes too small (a play right out of Gavin’s book, although this kid might not be doing it on purpose), ragged converse, and a backpack slung around his shoulders. The kid looked at a loss for words, his mouth opening and closing stupidly. Gavin rolled his eyes. “Don’t just stand there looking dumb, I’m starting to feel sorry for you.”

The kid snapped his mouth shut, letting Gavin’s phone drop into the sand. “I- I’m, uh-“

“Wow, are you new to the whole criminal thing, kid? Like I said, you’re not doing a very good job but I suppose I can-“

“No.”

“What?”

The guy shrugged, repeating himself. “No, I’m not new at this. You’re the first person to notice me today. This is the fourth iPhone I’ve stolen. Or I guess, attempted to.” Gavin raised an eyebrow at that.

“Jeez, why do you need so many phones?” The guy leaned his head back and laughed heartily, almost bringing a smile onto Gavin’s own face.

“Money, obviously. Phones are easier to steal than wallets, because people always have them out, whereas wallets are kept in pockets or purses. They also go for hundreds of dollars when most people only keep a couple of dollars in their wallets.”

Gavin raised a finger to his face, tapping lightly on his lips and the tip of his nose. He wasn’t wrong, he was actually very clever. Gavin eyed him, then down to his phone in the sand. “Well, you can keep it I suppose. It’s bound to have sand in it now anyway.”

The kid didn’t move, his dark eyes looking carefully at Gavin, attempting to read him. Gavin just looked back, resisting the urge to wiggle his eyebrows. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to get cocky. If he wasn’t as inexperienced as he claimed, he was bound to have a concealed weapon somewhere. Gavin studied him, looking for any out of place lumps. There was one on his thigh, and another on his arm. Gavin’s eyes flicked back up to his face, then back forward. The old dude was beginning to pick up any belongings.

“You… I know you from somewhere.” Gavin looked over once again. The kid had his eyebrows furrowed and appeared to be studying Gavin.

“Was it the nose or the gold that gave it away?” Gavin said cheerily, sitting up and stretching, not missing the way the kids’ eyes wandered over him for a moment.

The kid leaned down and picked up the phone, reaching his arms around and shoving it in the pocket of his backpack. He appeared to have made up his mind about something. He slowly began to back up, making sure that Gavin wasn’t going to make a move. He only got a few feet away before Gavin called out to him once again.

“Oi!”

The kid turned around, eying Gavin suspiciously. He opened his mouth to say something in return, but Gavin cut him off. “Be careful who you steal from. Not everyone is as nice as me,” Gavin said with one more grin. (He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of the kid running into someone like Ryan, or James)

Surprisingly, the kid smiled at him, giving him a two fingered salute as he turned and continued off in the direction of the pier.

-

Gavin accepted the job.

He had been planning on saying no- that he preferred to work alone, or he didn’t want to risk working with the most infamous crew in Los Santos history. But when Geoff approached him after a job he had helped out on, the word yes was slipping out of his moth before Geoff had even finished his sentence. It ended up being better than he ever expected, anyway. He received twice as many free drinks than usual (even though that often led to him waking up in apartments he didn’t recognize, even if the pay from Geoff was greater than he had ever received from working with anyone else), pulled off heists crazier than he had ever pulled off alone, and had even found a family in the crew.

Three months in, they received a new getaway driver/flight expert.

 Jack was going to be gone for a few months scouting out some territory and helping Funhaus with something, so they were pulling in any help they could get. (Apparently they were pulling in more people in the past few months than Geoff and Lindsay had ever pulled in the crew history. Mica, a weapon expert who could be useful with her father’s large gun manufacturing company. Kdin, who had connections in the LSPD and could get down their wanted levels in seconds. Matt, who could get them the cars, planes, and boats they needed for the next heist. How, he never told anyone, but Gavin didn’t really want to know either) Geoff put Gavin in charge of scouting him out, approaching him with the job.

Gavin wasn’t sure why he was being put up to this- Lindsay and Caleb were the communications people. Hell, even Jeremy apparently knew the guy. “His name is Trevor Collins. Goes by Zed. He’s got some serious sticky fingers and could probably kill people standing on a building just by hitting them with his plane.” Gavin winces. Jeremy laughs. “He’s cool. Totally a mommy’s boy.” That doesn’t make Gavin feel any better. _Gavin_ could be considered a mommy’s boy. He did grow up rich and pampered, after all.

But now Gavin sat in his convertible, parked at the empty beach. It was tempting to lean on the steering wheel, but Gavin didn’t want to accidentally hit the horn. He’d blown many negations due to his boredom. He was also considering getting out his phone and checking the description of the guy one more time, but decided against it. He was Gavin bloody Free. He wasn’t _supposed_ to get antsy. Perhaps clumsy and loud, but _neve_ r anxious. It didn’t happen.

He had the description memorized, anyway. (Acute memory came with years upon years of hacking, Gavin found)

_**From: Michael :)** _

_**Tall, thin. Tan. Dark/brown eyes. Black hair. Backpack with buttons. He has agreed to wear a grey t-shirt, grey jeans, and black converse. He knows you’ll be waiting.** _

Gavin was drawn out of his thoughts at the sound of tapping. “O Captain, my captain! Rise up and hear the bells.” A man was tapping on the hood of Gavin’s car. His _expensive_ car. Gavin opened his mouth to yell at the man, but was beat to the punch. “Wow, expensive car you got here.” Gavin frowned. Now this guy was being ignorant _and_ a douche. Was he trying to get Gavin to hit him to death? He’d done it before. Damaging Gavin’s car wouldn’t be the worst someone had done to impede Gavin’s annoyance.

Gavin looked up at the guy, who was grinning behind his black sunglasses, his blood bubbling. But then, he felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Yep, this was his guy. Grey clothing, tan skin, dark hair and eyes. He was wearing a backpack, too, but it was hard to see any buttons. But the sudden appearance wasn’t what surprised Gavin; it was the familiarity of it all.  The kid with the backpack, standing beside him at the beach. The only thing missing was the sweatshirt and Gavin’s phone. With the addition with a new attitude and sunglasses.

“I know you!” Gavin blurted suddenly, all of his anger melting away. Trevor Collins grinned at Gavin, the same Grin that Gavin imagined himself doing eight months ago. “You stole my phone!”

“I’ve stolen a _lot_ of phones,” Trevor said, a slight teasing there, but it was not bitter. He eyed Gavin, not unknowingly. In fact, Gavin was positive that Trevor also recognized him. “What can I help you with?”

Gavin forgot for a moment why he was there. “The Fake AH Crew needs your help for a job.” Gavin fidgeted slightly, uncomfortable with the situation. “If you come with me I can give you more details.”

Trevor looked contemplative for a few seconds, then in one foul swoop, jumped in beside Gavin, tossing his backpack to his feet.

The motion reminded Gavin of the facade he worked hard to hold up. The Golden Boy. Vav. Some cool dude that Trevor stole a gold iPhone from.

Gavin pushed his gold sunglasses further up his nose, backing out of the parking spot as Trevor studied him. Gavin couldn’t help but wonder if Trevor thought that he looked any different. Probably not- Gavin hadn’t changed in years. He still had the tanned skin, the sun kissed hair, gold sunglasses. Trevor, on the other hand…

Gavin had only had contact with him for a few minutes, but Gavin suddenly felt like he knew his face better than his own. He had stubble that he didn’t have when they first met, and his hair was shorter and better kept. The tight jeans now suited his muscular legs, and the disappearance of the large sweatshirt showed off his arms and the sunglasses looked like a missing puzzle piece on his face. (Gavin couldn’t help but feel like Trevor had done more than take a page out of his book. Trevor had stolen the book and copied it word for word. Not that Gavin was complaining. Gavin would let Trevor steal all of his belongings if he wanted)

-

 Gavin was spending his one year anniversary working with The Fake AH Crew stranded on a beach.

It was all Trevor’s fault, in retrospect. It was Trevor who was flying the plane, it was Trevor who nicked the side of the mountain, and it was _Trevor_ who attempted to land the plane on the beach, but just ended up crashing them into the ocean. They were both okay, mostly. Gavin’s shoulder had taken a nasty hit when Gavin jumped out of the building and ran to get inside the getaway vehicle, and somewhere along the line Trevor began bleeding profusely from the head. (That may be the cause of the bad flying skills, but Gavin was still stewing)

Trevor was completely still on the sand while Gavin paced around him. If he didn’t know any better, Gavin would be worried that he may be suffering from blood loss. But Gavin wasn’t dumb like the others say he is- the head wound wasn’t bad, and if it was anything serious Trevor would know better than to lay on the ground and _sleep for god’s sake_.

“Would you stop pacing? You’re going to dig yourself into a hole and then we’ll be in _double_ trouble.” Gavin stopped, eyeing him with distaste.

“Don’t you have something in that backpack of yours that can help us?” Gavin said bitterly.

Trevor sat up, leaning on his elbows. They were in similar positions to when they first met, with their roles reversed. Gavin, standing helpless and cold, and Trevor, sitting authoritative and bossy. Something had crossed Trevor’s face that made Gavin feel bad, but he pushed down his feelings, staring back at Trevor.

While they were sinking, strapped into the plane tightly, the first thing Trevor did was grab his backpack from behind the seat, pulling it on. Gavin was already unbuckled and up to his knees in water, attempting to open one of the doors. “ _Help me!”_ Gavin hissed, tugging at the door, looking over his shoulder at Trevor as he unbuckled. Trevor moved over as fast as he could, pushing his shoulder against the door the way Gavin couldn’t with his injured shoulder.

Trevor let out a long breath, looking up at the starry sky. Gavin stayed still, an icy air running over him. Trevor was probably looking for constellations or planets- he was smart like that. Gavin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before sitting down on the cold sand beside his companion. “I’m sorry,” Gavin said slowly, the words unfamiliar in his mouth. It wasn’t often that one of the most dangerous criminals in the United States apologized.

Trevor seemed aware of this, looking over at Gavin. Something passed over Trevor’s face, but only for a moment. Gavin looked down at their knees, which were bumping lightly. Trevor shrugged. “Shit happens.”

Gavin barked out a laugh, and was painfully aware that his throat felt like it had been burned raw. Trevor began to laugh too, and any tension between them broke. Trevor nudged Gavin’s shoulder with his own, lightly, not enough to hurt. (Gavin felt his cheeks begin to burn red because _Trevor knew which shoulder was hurt ohmygod_ ) Gavin would have to have Caleb look at this godforsaken shoulder when they got back. It didn’t feel dislocated, but it hurt like a bitch. Maybe Gavin’s cold clothes would help it, like ice. But at the same time Gavin needed to get out of this shirt as soon as possible- it was one of his favorites and really didn’t want it ruined.

Bzz.

Gavin pulled his phone out quickly, looking down at the text after he pushed the low battery alert away.

_**From: Micool** _

_**Dude, where you guys at? Lindsay and Geoff are pissed** _

Trevor looked down at his hands then back up to the sky, scanning them quickly. “You’re a Gemini, right?” Gavin nodded as he put his phone away, then realized Trevor wasn’t looking at him.

“Yes,” He said simply, endeared that Trevor knew him well enough to know his birthday.

“You see those two really bright stars next to each other?” Trevor pointed.

“Mhm.”

“Those are Caster and Pollux.” Trevor drew the two stars in the sand, just poking his fingers in. He drew four more dots, two underneath both caster and pollux. “I don’t know these two. Then the two underneath those,” Trevor poked the sand twice more, “Alhena and Propus.” Trevor looked over at Gavin and smiled, which he could barely see in the dark. “And all together you have Gemini.”

“Wow, how did you know that?” Gavin asked, genuinely curious. He averted his eyes from Trevor’s to look into the sky at the stars.

“I wanted to major in Aerospace Engineering.” Trevor paused, then laughed lightly. “Then I got arrested for stealing from some old lady. I broke out from captivity, flew here, met you, and here we are.”

Gavin looked down at their feet. “I could’ve qualified for the Olympics.”

Trevor sat back slightly so he was facing Gavin completely. “Wait, are you serious? For what?”

Gavin felt his face warming. “Gymnastics.”

“Oh my God.” Suddenly Trevor was laughing. Full on _laughing_. Practically cackling. Gavin was blushing now, sitting up straighter and watching Trevor. Trevor was laying on the ground now, his hands clasped around his stomach. “Please tell me you’re joking. No, you know what? I hope you’re serious. Do something flexible. Prove it.”

Gavin rolled his eyes, standing up. Trevor moved to lean on his elbows, watching Gavin with a huge, dopey grin on his face. “I’m wearing cold, wet, skinny jeans,” Gavin reminded Trevor warily, kicking off his shoes, aiming for Trevor, who slapped them away, still grinning. His socks came next.

Gavin let out a long breath, then leaned down, pressing his forearms to the sand. Gavin ignored the ache in his shoulder, wincing slightly as he pushed his weight onto his arms. Trevor was finally silent in front of him, his giggling stopped. Gavin pushed his gravity all onto his arms as he pulled the lower half of his body over his head. (Gavin pretended not to hear the little gasp Trevor let out) Gavin let out a huff as his bare feet waved in front of his face. He let himself adjust, balancing carefully. Then began to move slightly, moving his feet like he was peddling a bicycle, averting his eyes to Trevor, whose mouth had fallen open, watching Gavin’s legs move. Gavin grinned, waving his foot at Trevor as he would his hand.

Trevor shut his mouth quickly, locking eyes with Gavin. “Holy shit,” Trevor said, his mouth breaking into a smile. “Dude, holy shit!” Gavin moved onto his hands, balancing into a handstand, then onto one hand, bending and flexing his arm, then flopped down onto his stomach, his muscles aching and shoulder minged up. Gavin breathed heavily, moving to lie onto his back as Trevor moved to sit beside him. “Gavin,” Trevor said slowly, more quiet this time. Gavin looked over at him, catching his breath once more before sitting up, rubbing at this shoulder.

“Gavin,” Trevor said once more, suddenly very close to Gavin.

“Trevor,” Gavin said, their voices on the same level.

Gavin wished he could say that the kiss was magical. That there were fireworks, or lightning, or what have you. But there wasn’t. Trevor’s hands on Gavin’s face were cold, _too_ cold. Gavin wasn’t shaved, his beard felt too in the way. His throat hurt and his muscles ached. Trevor’s lips were chapped.  He could only lift one hand to touch Trevor’s face, and later, when Gavin was at his apartment recalling the events, he realized that there was blood on his hands and under his fingernails from Trevor’s head wound. Trevor got sand in Gavin’s hair and his only useable hand just rubbed the blood around more than it was before.

But when the others arrived (It could’ve been seconds, minutes, hours, or years for all it mattered to them) and they broke apart, Trevor was smiling. And Gavin realized that he was smiling too.

-

The car lurched forward at the explosion, causing Trevor to step on the gas harder. Gavin was half twisted out the window, firing at the police behind them as he yelled into the phone. “ _No_ , Kdin!” He said angrily, nearly falling out of the window as Trevor turned a corner sharply. “Jesus, watch it Trevor.” Trevor just laughed as he cut between cars on the highway, no real care that Gavin could have his head chopped off by any cars he gets too close to.

Gavin considered dropping his phone and leaving it to Kdin to get the police off of them, but she was still attempting to get into the systems. Gavin understood that hacking was hard, he knew better than anyone, but maybe Kdin could _pick it up a little oh my god_. He eventually hung up once he knew that Kdin had gotten in, leaving the rest to her.

Two cops crashed into each other, causing another huge explosion, knocking out a few more and giving them time. Gavin let out a whoop, slithering back into the car and rolling up the window. Gavin could hear the distinct sound of choppers ahead now; they needed to get somewhere safe and _fast_.

Trevor seemed to notice at the same time as Gavin, looking up at the ceiling of the car, then back to the road. Gavin exhaled through his nose, leaning back in his seat as he ran a hand through his hair. “So much for our first date,” Gavin said grimly, glancing in the mirror at the chaos behind them. The original plan was a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant, one that Gavin’s parents would approve of, and a trip to the pier to do cute coupley stuff that made Gavin gag thinking about it. But here they were now- in a stolen Prius running from the cops, dressed to the nines in fancy suits. (With little hints of themselves in them, because lord knows that neither of them dressed up much. Trevor with the shoes and socks that _don’t match_ the dark blue suit or the black sunglasses, and Gavin with the gold tie and handkerchief to _match_ the gold sunglasses on his face) Trevor’s tie had been loosened around his neck and Gavin had abandoned his altogether, along with his jacket.

Trevor swerved as he processed what Gavin said, then looked over at him. “No way, this is a lot better than a fancy meal that neither of us would’ve enjoyed very much.” Gavin grinned, knowing this was true. Gavin had never attended any of the fancy stuff his parents went to, and he knew enough about Trevor to know that Trevor’s family could barely afford to feed the whole family, much less a nice meal.

Trevor yelped, his eyes widening. “Hold on, Gavin!” He said, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. Gavin did, bracing himself.

They went straight off the highway, down onto the gravel below and into the trees. “Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea,” Trevor kept saying, but wasn’t stopping as the branches hit the windows and rocks and mud flew up around them. Gavin was grinning, though, and when Trevor finally looked over at him, he began to grin too.

They drove around the off-road for another hour or so, waiting until they couldn’t hear the sirens or choppers anymore. Kdin had done her job. Gavin rolled down the window as Trevor approached the end of the wooded area, poking his head out to look at the damage to the car. It was scratched as hell, with dents littering the back end and the front smashed from the impact of the jump. Not too shabby- Gavin had lost wheels and had the roof caved in during heists before.

The car stopped at an empty beach, surrounded by cliffs and rocks, completely secluded from the rest of the world. The only sign of Los Santos was the pier in the distance. Gavin hopped out, kicking off his shoes and socks as he ran, sticking his toes into the warm sand. Trevor followed closely behind, his hands in his pockets, watching Gavin with a fond look on his face. Gavin spun around, still on an adrenaline rush. He pulled Trevor’s hands out of his pockets, taking them into his own, pulling him forward. Trevor kicked off his shoes as Gavin pulled, then stopped to tug off his socks.

Gavin pulled and pulled until he could feel his heels brush the chilly water, but continued to move until Trevor was completely up against his chest and the water was up to his knees, completely ruining his suit (He could almost hear his father scolding him).

“How do we always end up here?” Was the first thing Trevor said, his mouth close to Gavin’s face.

“Are you talking about our _proximity_ ,” Trevor snorted, “or in water?”

Trevor threw his head back and laughed, high and sweet. “The _beach_ **,** dumbass.”

Gavin shrugged, wrapping his arms around Trevor’s waist. Trevor pressed his hands to Gavin’s biceps, making Gavin suck in a breath, the touch gentle and warm compared to the cold water surrounding the pair. Trevor sensed this, leaning forward and kissing Gavin, sickly sweet. The kiss wasn’t foreign, and was greeted eagerly by Gavin, who moved his hands up to press to the sides of Trevor’s face, pulling him into him.

They stood there like that for a few blissful moments, before there was a splashing noise and suddenly Gavin’s back was wet.

“You mingy li’l donut!” Gavin squeaked, pulling away from Trevor quickly, who was laughing, his arms over his stomach as he hunched forward. Gavin dove towards Trevor, pushing him underneath the water, inevitably pushing himself under as well. Trevor leaned in to kiss him while they were under, and Gavin let him, only to push him under further, pulling himself back above the surface. Trevor came back up to the sound of Gavin’s laughter ringing through the air, a large grin on his own face.

“You’re evil!” Trevor mocked, swimming towards Gavin, who backed up slowly, but tripped over a rock that had gone unseen in the water, falling backwards. Gavin could hear Trevor laughing above the water, approaching agonizingly slow. Gavin broke the water, immediately grabbing Trevor by his red tie, pulling him into his lips. They were cold now, and tasted of salt from the ocean.

They stayed there for hours, long after the sun had set. Trevor got rid of his coat and tie somewhere in hour two, and Gavin lost his pants at hour four. Trevor got rid of both of their shirts after they stopped keeping track, and they counted each other’s scars on the sand. (Trevor had twenty four, forty two if you counted assorted bruises, and Gavin had thirty one, each and every one with a story) After the sun had long since set, they sat under a blanket they found in an emergency kit in the car, recounting tales from their childhood crimes.

When they found a lull in the conversation, Gavin spoke up. “Trevor,” He said quietly.

Trevor looked over at him, the stars in his eyes glittering. “Gavin.”

“This was the best first date I’ve ever had.”

Trevor’s cheeks turned red, and Gavin didn’t think it was from the cold. “Aren’t you the guy that has sex with people to get information?”

It was Gavin’s turn to blush. “Yes, but those aren’t romantic interests. Besides, even then I can’t talk to people I’m romantically interested in without getting drunk first.”

“Are you drunk right now?”

“No.”

Trevor pressed a hand to his chest mockingly. “I’m offended.”

Gavin slapped his bare arm, shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant. I mean…” Gavin swallowed, hard. “You’re the first person I _don’t_ have to get drunk to talk to.”

Trevor was silent next to him. Shit, had he scared him? Had he ruined the best thing he’d had in a long time? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

Trevor’s eyes widened, shaking his head. “No, no! I was thinking about something. Gavin, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Gavin kissed him, and this time, there were fireworks.

-

Everyone was drunk.

Well, from what Gavin could see. Although, Ryan and Ray definitely weren’t, as they were the only two desperately trying to keep Michael and Geoff away from each other’s throats, while Mica, Jon, and Jeremy chanted “Fight! Fight! Fight!” with red solo cups in their hands. Jack was throwing anything that even remotely resembled paper into the fire, while Lindsay as in a very heated debate with Caleb about whether or not she could jump the fire (The answer was no, she couldn’t). Steffie, Kdin, and Matt were at one of the fold out tables, surrounded by various bottles of liquor, trying to make the worst and best combinations of drinks possible (So far they had managed to make Jeremy vomit with their coke/wine/chocolate ale combination and had Geoff nearly cry with joy with the concoction of scotch/watermelon syrup/vermouth/lime/mint. Gavin had passed on their offer). Gavin himself was also tipsy, the edges of his vision blurred and his walking was a little crooked. He had every right to get drunk- he had hacked his ass off today. He had to get through _five_ locked doors and survey _three_ security cams all at the _same damn time_.

They always celebrated after major heists like this, a big party out at an old cabin that Geoff owned. The entire crew was here, and Funhaus was going to stop by. Apparently Lindsay was trying to convince the ScrewAttack crew to pop in as well. Hell, the cabin could fit The Creatures and Cow Chop if they felt like coming, too.

The only problem was that Gavin couldn’t find his boyfriend. Trevor didn’t drink often, and wasn’t a huge fan of parties, but neither were Ryan and Ray, yet here they were, standing awkwardly next to each other as Geoff and Michael hugged, sopping into each other’s shoulders. So Gavin sat alone in one of the folding chairs, his legs crossed and a beer in his hands. He surveyed the area, searching for the backpack with the pins, or the sweatshirt, or the black sunglasses, anything familiar. He looked back down at the brown liquid, hoping to find an answer in the fizz.

He looked up when he felt someone sit next to him.

“Damn, what did that beer ever do to you? You’re giving it a death glare.”

Gavin smiled at his new companion. “Hi, Meg.”

Meg grinned, saluting him with two fingers, which made Gavin get a pang in his chest, remembering the first time he met Trevor. Meg was a freelancer, but she was close friends with Ryan and Lindsay. She must have been invited by one of them. Her leggings glittered in the light of the fire; scales to resemble a mermaids’. Her long nails tapped on the arm of the chair she was in and on the glass she was holding (Gavin wondered where the hell she had gotten that- they were only serving plastic cups currently. She must have snuck into the cabin and snagged a margarita glass. Clever girl), and Gavin felt like he was being ripped into shreds as she stared at her from underneath her purple glasses. “Hello, Gavin! Why so sad?”

“’m not sad. Have you seen Trevor?”

Meg had a knowing look, making Gavin feel like she did know. “He’s down on the beach.”

Gavin was standing immediately, nodding his thanks. He didn’t ask how she knew. “Top. Thank you Meg. Have fun!”

Meg looked over in the direction of Ryan and Jon, a smirk on her face. “I think I will.”

Gavin didn’t question further, only glancing over at Ryan and Jon, who were chatting merrily by the beer pong, then went off to go find Trevor.

He stopped by the cooler, grabbing a beer and waving at Kerry, who was struggling to carry a bag of ice in Gavin’s general direction. Gavin decided that he could handle it, walking carefully down the steep hill, tripping occasionally due to his drunkenness, weaving through trees and stepping over roots. His feet eventually touched sand, causing him to look up at the figure a ways down the beach. Got him.

Trevor was on his back, holding a book over his face. His backpack was open next to him, but Gavin could not see its contents. He had never seen what was inside, but Trevor went nearly everywhere with it. Gavin never asked, Trevor never offered.

“What are you reading?” Gavin asked as he got close.

Trevor didn’t even stir as Gavin sat down, just putting his arms against his chest so that his face was looking up at the sky now. “ _’The Man With Night Sweats’_ By Thom Gunn. It’s a collection of poems.”

Gavin knew Trevor was a big literature fan. He was constantly quoting things- _Charles Dickens, William Shakespeare, Edgar Allen Poe, Harry Potter_ , you name it, Trevor could quote it. He was always reading something. This one was new. “What’s it about?” Gavin asked, looking down at Trevor.

“I told you. Poems. But the titular poem is about a man who has AIDS.” Trevor sat up, shutting the book and stuffing it into the backpack, before zipping it up before Gavin could even peek inside. Trevor turned back to Gavin, a small smile on his face. “I was wondering when you would come down here.”

Gavin shrugged, offering his boyfriend the bottle. Trevor shook his head. Gavin rolled his eyes mockingly. “More for me.” He chugged the rest in his cup before opening the bottle and began to drink immediately. Trevor pulled his knees up and leaned on them as Gavin inched closer. Trevor looked back at him warily, letting out a long breath.

“You’re drunk,” Trevor stated the obvious as Gavin touched Trevor’s arm. Gavin rolled his eyes, seriously this time.

“Only a little.” Gavin moved so he was sitting in front of Trevor, taking a long swig of his beer before pushing it into the sand so it wouldn’t fall over. Gavin crawled on top of Trevor, sitting in his lap, pressing his hands onto Trevor’s shoulders.

Trevor didn’t move, looking at Gavin. He was unreadable. Gavin was usually good at reading people- years of analyzing people came to a halt when he was drunk, it seemed. “Gavin we’re not going to have sex for the first time on a _beach,_ with our friends up on the hill where they could _see us_ , while you’re _drunk_!”

Gavin tugged at the collar of Trevor’s shirt. Trevor slapped his hand away, Gavin pouted. Gavin moved again, this time running his hands through Trevor’s hair, smiling down at him. “I’m not drunk,” Gavin said, as seriously as he could muster.

“For a criminal, you’re a horrible liar.”

Gavin noted that Trevor was not protesting the hands in his hair, so he kept them there. “Hey, I’m either robbing a bank or behind a computer screen. I don’t _have_ to lie.”

Trevor snorted, leaning his head back slightly. Gavin took this as his opportunity to inch his hands down to Trevor’s neck, tugging at the short hairs there. Trevor stilled underneath him, giving Gavin a swell of pride. If he could get gang leaders he barely knew to have sex with him while drunk, he could get his boyfriend to while tipsy, for god’s sake. Gavin continued to move down, running his hands up and down Trevor’s back. Gavin moved his hands over the scars he knew where there, all twenty four of them, then moved down to the hem of the t-shirt, causing Trevor to suck in a breath. Gavin looked back down on his boyfriend’s face, noticing for the first time that Trevor had closed his eyes. His chest was heaving slightly, and Gavin bet that if he pressed his hand to his chest he could feel his heartbeat (Gavin considered doing so, but came to the conclusion that he didn’t want his hands to leave Trevor’s back).

Gavin took that as invitation to move his hands up underneath the thin layer of clothing, cold hands on cold skin. Yet still Trevor’s hands snapped to Gavin’s waist, as if he had just been burned. Gavin could trace the raised skin now; feel the individual marks with each finger.

Trevor kissed him, then. He tasted like berries and cigarettes, smelled like mint cologne and smoke. Like home. Gavin probably wasn’t doing much to make Trevor want to have sex with him; he was on his fifth beer, and hadn’t showered after the heist. He still felt a light sheen of sweat on his body, still had blood and dirt underneath his fingernails. Trevor hated when Gavin was drunk, yet here he was kissing him.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin mumbled into his mouth.

Trevor shook his head, running his hands up and down Gavin’s sides. “Shut up.” Gavin did, focusing on Trevor’s mouth instead of his own.

Trevor fell onto his back, squashing Gavin’s hands underneath him. They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Gavin wiggled, attempting to pull his hands out. Trevor let out a low moan underneath him, making Gavin laugh as he pulled his hands out from underneath him. They were covered in cold, wet, sand.

“Now you’re going to get my dick all sandy,” Trevor complained, looking up at Gavin, who was straddling him as he shook his hands. Gavin scoffed as Trevor continued, “it’ll take forever to get out and you’ll have it in your mouth for weeks.”

Gavin slapped his chest once his hands had sufficiently been de-sanded. “You’re awful,” Gavin chimed, leaning in to kiss Trevor, moving his hands down his chest to his belt. “Really, truly, awful. You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“I think my mother has heard worse than sex jokes, _Gavin_.” Trevor shuddered as Gavin unclicked the belt, the distinct sound music to Gavin’s ears. It wasn’t that they’d never gotten this far before. They’d had plenty of bjs and handies, more than you could count on both of their hands, but they always got interrupted otherwise. (Geoff’s urgent call for a getaway driver as Trevor came into Gavin’s hand, Jeremy persistently nagging Gavin over the phone that he needed help hacking into a building all while Trevor was in-between his legs, Ryan and Jon walking into an occupied broom closet) But now, with everyone drunk and partying up the hill, they could keep going this time.

Gavin laughed when Trevor gasped as Gavin’s cold fingers worked their way down into Trevor’s underwear, then moving to wrap around his cock. Their eyes locked as he did so, Trevor’s hips twitching at the contact.

“And to think you were very against this a few minutes ago.”

Trevor kissed Gavin, hard. Their teeth smashed together for a few seconds, but the pain went away as Trevor moved to bite down on Gavin’s bottom lip, successfully getting Gavin to moan quietly. Gavin continued his movements, pumping up and down and grazing his thumb over his head, the way Gavin knew Trevor liked it.

When Trevor began to buck up, Gavin stopped, releasing a long moan from Trevor’s lips.

Their eyes met as Gavin leaned back onto his knees, a silent conversation passing between them. Trevor let out one long sigh, then leaned over, digging around in his backpack before pulling out the small bottle of lube that Gavin knew he kept with him. He passed it over to Gavin, who took it with a grin. Trevor gave Gavin a look, then grabbed the beer bottle that Gavin had abandoned, taking a long swig of it.

“Atta boy,” Gavin commented as he popped open the cap and lowered his pants down ever so slightly, his ass poking out uncomfortably. Trevor grimaced as he put the bottle back where it was, licking his lips with a look of distaste on his face. Gavin put a considerable amount of lube onto his fingers then tossed the bottle back to his boyfriend, who caught it, and began to put some on his palm. Trevor pulled his dick out (with hesitance, Gavin noted) and began to pump it up and down himself, slicking it up with lube. Gavin himself had begun to rub the jelly onto his exposed hole, slipping in two fingers easily. He practically had sex with people for a living- he wasn’t too worried about not being ready enough.

“Trevor,” Gavin said slowly, once they were ready a minute later, no more mocking or joking in his voice. Trevor was quiet underneath him, his mouth open slightly. “Trevor,” Gavin repeated. “Trevor, I-“

“I know,” Trevor said quickly, leaning up to kiss Gavin, then moving up, pushing himself inside Gavin.

Gavin had been with more sexual partners than anyone he knew. He had been with women, men, people who when by both and people who went by neither. He’d been with people when he was drunk and people when he was sober. He’s been with good sexual partners; he’s been with _amazing_ sexual partners. He’d been with seventy-something year old men who gave out information like dollar bills. He’d been with nineteen year old girls who were tight lipped and had him coming back for more. He’d had sex anywhere you could sit and anywhere where two people could fit in a tight space. He’d had sex with Cambodian twins; the Austrian president; he even went to a forty person orgy where one of his clients had paid him to spy on his wife. He’d had sex with cops to get out of holding cells. He’d had sex with _prisoners_ during his brief time in prison just to get put in solitary for some peace and quiet.

Trevor was on a whole different level. Trevor, who had gotten rid of Gavin’s shirt just so he could smell and bite into his skin. Trevor, who had a section in his heart all sectioned off just for him. Who made him tea in the mornings and flew him to England when he was feeling homesick. Who liked watching him stretch before heists and laughed when Gavin hopped on one foot with the other behind his head. Trevor, who could speak fluent Italian with Gavin’s grandmother over skype while he showered. Who didn’t drink and didn’t get mad when Gavin did. Who wasn’t afraid of heights but didn’t like flying with Gavin anymore. There was Trevor, who cared, who knew, who listened.

And here he was, moaning into Gavin’s neck, biting down into the skin of his collarbone and muttering words like “so good”, and “you’re brilliant”. Gavin didn’t deserve him, but here he was, sucking up the attention and the, dare he say it, _love_. Gavin almost cried, he really did. He nearly came apart on top of his wonderful, amazing boyfriend that deserved some much better than the slutty Golden Boy of Los Santos.

But when Gavin looked down at Trevor, whose eyes were closed and his mouth was pressed to Gavin’s skin, a small smile hinting at the side of his lips, he sniffed the tears down, kissing the side of Trevor’s head that he could reach, burying his nose into his dark hair and breathing it in. There were bits of sand left there, from when they were laying down earlier, but now they were both in a sitting position, most of it having fallen away. There were little things like this, now, that held Gavin’s attention. The birth marks and moles on his neck and face and arms; the little bruises that never seemed to go away in their line of business; the short hairs at the base of his neck; the slight stubble on his chin.

“You’re beautiful,” Trevor slurred just as Gavin opened his mouth to say the same thing. Gavin moaned, dipping down to meet Trevor’s lips, then pressing their noses together.

“I could say the same thing about you,” Gavin replied, his chest heaving as Trevor bucked up abruptly as one of his hands continued to pump Gavin’s dick. 

Trevor didn’t answer; only as his head rolled back and his eyes shut again did Gavin realize what was happening. Gavin groaned, his hips moving up in time with Trevor’s and into his hand as they both came, their chests heaving, hair and skin wet with sweat.

They stayed there for two and a half minutes, with Trevor still inside Gavin, with Gavin’s fingers still tangled into Trevor’s hair, just breathing. Gavin eventually rolled over and onto the sand, tucking himself into his jeans and closing his eyes. Trevor didn’t move much beside him, but he could hear the sound of Trevor’s heavy breathing. They stayed like that for another minute, before Trevor’s voice cut through the silence that had previously been occupied by the sounds of the party up on the hill.

“Aren’t you supposed to be, like, _great_ at pillow talk?”

Gavin opened one eye to find Trevor rummaging through his backpack, sitting with his legs crossed like a kindergartener. His hair was tousled and sandy, and his belt was still undone around his hips. He was still beautiful. “Is someone spreading rumors about me?”

Trevor scoffed. Gavin continued. “You and I both know I can’t talk to people romantically unless I’m drunk. I usually leave before we can do all the mushy shit. I get the information, have sex, leave. Not necessarily in that order.” Gavin sat up, grabbing his shirt from behind Trevor and shaking it free of sand. “Maybe we should get back to the party.”

Trevor looked up at the starry sky, then back to Gavin.

“I hear they’re making s’mores. I’m sure Steffie, Kdin, and Matt could whip you up a horrible drink as well.” Gavin said, reaching over to lace their sandy fingers together. Trevor laughed.

“I think I’ve had my fill for tonight,” He said quietly, leaning closer to Gavin, shooting his head back in the direction where Gavin’s nearly-empty bottle of beer sat, abandoned. Gavin laughed, bringing up his other hand to wrap around Trevor’s bicep.

“I don’t think they’ll be too heart broken.”

Trevor pulled himself standing, tugging Gavin up with him. Gavin bent down to pick up Trevor’s backpack, handing it to him, then returning to his positon on his arm. Trevor took it gratefully, slinging it around his shoulders. “Besides,” Trevor commented as they slowly began to work their way up the steep hill where their friends waited. Gavin could distantly hear the sound of Bruce and Geoff fighting, James and Elyse placing bets on how fast Lawrence could chug one of the horrible drinks (The answer was four seconds, and Elyse was now five hundred dollars and a new bifta richer), and Joel chatting to Meg about her high heels. Funhaus had arrived while they were gone. “They’re all probably too drunk to realize we were gone.”

Gavin let out a hearty laugh, leaning into Trevor.

-

Everything had gone to shit. Like, properly to shit.

Michael had gotten caught by the cops. His earpiece had gone dead nearly two hours ago now- the last thing they had heard from him was the sound of gunshots. Ray and Jeremy had disappeared from the rooftops as soon as things began to go awry. They hadn’t heard from them since. Geoff had abandoned the money as soon as the cops showed up at the bank and Ray and Jeremy left their posts, bee lining for Jack in the cargobob a few blocks away. Even Ryan had gotten himself out numbered, narrowly jumping over a fence in an ally and meeting up with Lindsay in the boat. Kdin wasn’t picking up her damn phone, and Mica was in the Bahamas. Caleb was at a doctor’s conference two hours away and Steffie was trying her best, but she was new to the crew and the most she could do was block off an intersection. Kerry and Matt couldn’t get a clear shot from their jet. B-Team was just as much a wreck as they were.

Trevor was _dying_. They’d crashed the car in an attempt to escape the cops not even four seconds after Geoff had abandoned ship. Gavin blacked out for most of the rolling, but all he knew was that he was shooting out the window one second and the next he was upside down and Trevor was unconscious. He’d managed to wriggle himself free and pull Trevor out from the shattered window with minimal damage to his own body. He had begun to walk when color that wasn’t the car materialized in his peripheral vision. He made a mad dash for the backpack, gathered Trevor in his arms and made a mad dash for the side of the road.  Gun wounds to his thigh and bicep that he didn’t remember getting and multiple scratches on his face, but Trevor was _dying. Dying. Trevor was going to die. It would all be Gavin’s fault._

Gavin was sobbing by the time he’d dragged Trevor off of the highway, over the rail, and onto the beach, where he could see Ryan and Lindsay on their boat, two helicopters hovering above them. Gavin didn’t check to see whose they were. _Dying_.

He could hear cops yelling at him. To drop his weapon, put his hands up. But there was static too, and not from his earpiece. There he could hear shouting from more familiar voices, Ryan asking where he was. Geoff talking to someone he couldn’t hear. Jack wasn’t speaking, but he could hear his breathing. Heavy and distant and calm. Just like Jack himself. Static in his ears, in his brain. In the tips of his fingers, in his heart. It was everywhere.

The boat was approaching now, but Trevor’s feet were still dragging. Not dying. _Dead_?

Gavin considered dropping to his knees, letting the cops shoot him down. Walking into the ocean and not resurfacing. Shooting a flare. But Ryan and Lindsay were there, now. Ryan was jumping out, approaching. His skull mask was stained red with blood. It wasn’t scary anymore.

“You are _literally_ the only reason I’d ever walk towards cops,” Ryan said, grabbing Gavin by the shoulders and tugging him backward. Trevor was too heavy in his arms, too limp. He couldn’t feel Trevor breathing on him, like he had so many times before. He wasn’t reaching up to touch Gavin’s face or make a silly comment about the beard he was growing out. Gavin just let out another sob as his legs touched water. Trevor wasn’t there to splash him, or drag him under.

“He’s dead, Ryan.”

“No, he isn’t,” Ryan said forcefully, but didn’t look so sure. As soon as he had one leg in Lindsay was slamming her foot on the gas, the cops close behind. Gavin just collapsed onto the floor of the small boat, taking far too much room, but Ryan didn’t seem too bothered by it as he pulled out a large weapon. Gavin didn’t look at him either. He focused his eyes on Trevor’s face for the first time, clutching him close to his chest.

Trevor’s beautiful face was covered in scrapes, bruises, blood, and grime. Normally, Gavin would have some sort of adrenaline rush, or even turned on. But now there was an empty pit in his stomach and his eyes hurt and he couldn’t feel his hands that were running through Trevor’s hair. He needed a haircut; Gavin had bothered him about it that morning.

Gavin realized that tears were falling down his face when the salty liquid fell onto Trevor’s face, leaving a clean tripe of skin down Trevor’s cheek. More fell, onto his face and shirt. Gavin couldn’t look anymore.

“Lindsay, we need to get him to a hospital,” Gavin choked out. The woman didn’t turn to face him, just leaned into the steering wheel. An explosion sounded from behind them.

“No, you need to get him to Caleb.”

Gavin spun to look at Ryan. “He could _die_ , Ryan!”

Ryan’s icy blue eyes met Gavin’s green ones. “No, he won’t.”

Gavin looked down at his boyfriend, whose mouth had fallen open. Gavin moved one of his hands to press lightly to his blood stained chest, bits of metal poking out from the grey material. His chest heaved, if only slightly. Gavin let out a long breath he didn’t know he had been holding. He wasn’t safe yet, but it was something.

“We’re still meeting at the beach,” Gavin could hear Lindsay say in the distance. He looked up to see her stuff a phone he wasn’t aware she had been on into her purse. “Geoff is hoping that that’s where Jeremy and Ray will show up.”

Ryan tossed a grenade towards the three boats that were following closely behind them. “And Michael?”

A look crossed Lindsay’s face. “I don’t know yet.”

“He’ll be fine Linds. If he doesn’t bust out of there himself within the next hour, we’ll get him out. We did it for Geoff; we can do it for him.” Ryan at down in one of the chairs, tugging off the mask and revealing his paint covered face and sandy hair.

Gavin looked back down as Lindsay spun the boat around, heading in the opposite direction they had been heading in. Lindsay’s silence said a thousand words. She wasn’t sure if they could.

Gavin wanted to reassure her, to tell her that her husband would be fine, that a holding cell wasn’t the worst place Michael had busted out of. But the words escaped him. Hell, he wasn’t even sure his boyfriend would get out of this heist alive. How could he be sure they could break one of the world’s most wanted criminals out of police custody?

One of Trevor’s fingers twitched as they went over a particularly tall wave. Gavin let out a long sob that sliced through the silence like a knife. He pulled the hand up to his lips, kissing every digit until he placed it to his cheek. If he closed his eyes this would almost feel normal. The metallic taste of blood on his lips and the smell of salt and sweat ruined the dream.

Gavin stayed like that for god knows how long, all he knew was that his knees ached from his position on the floor, but Trevor was still cold and unmoving. No pain in his legs or bullet wound in his arm could remove the static in his ears and his heart. But Ryan forced him up when Lindsay pulled the boat up to the beach where Geoff and Jack were waiting. Gavin all but fell out of the boat, tugging Trevor through the ankle deep water with him, collapsing at Jack’s feet. “Jack, you know how to stitch people up, please-“

“Gavin, I don’t think I can-“

“Then call Caleb! Or pull some strings at the hospital! Please! _Do something_!” Gavin sobbed. Trevor twitched underneath him, one of his legs nearly kicking Gavin in the ribs.

Jack and Geoff looked down at them with pity, then back at each other. It was Geoff who spoke up first. “Caleb is already on his way home. I called him as soon as we lost Trevor’s earpiece.”

Gavin was crying again, touching his forehead to Trevor’s chest, which was shaking with every breath taken. He could hear Jack and Geoff eventually step away, beginning to discuss with Lindsay and Ryan a few feet away. Gavin didn’t move until he felt a familiar pressure against the back of his head. He snapped up, locking eyes with Trevor. He looked worse now, even with his eyes half-lidded. He looked like a zombie. “Trevor,” Gavin croaked out, lifting a hand to brush away the stray hair from his face. “I’m so sorry-“

Trevor’s hand moved to the straps of the backpack that was around Gavin’s shoulders. He had completely forgotten about it. “You got my bag.”

Gavin rolled his eyes, a smile itching at his mouth despite the circumstances. “Of course I did, you minge. I know how much it means to you.”

Trevor’s hand moved away to the blood that had dried around Gavin’s bicep. “Is that from the crash?”

“Getting you out of it.”

Trevor started crying then, too, which just made Gavin cry harder, then they were both sobbing, earning glances from the others up the beach. Geoff smiled at them warmly, Jack turned away, Ryan rubbed his temples, Lindsay looked worried. Gavin was regaining feeling in the tips of his fingers. He could feel each individual hair of Trevor’s hair, the blood and sand on his fingers. They were smiling like idiots in high school who hadn’t just nearly died more times in an hour than most people in a lifetime.

Caleb showed up exactly thirty-six minutes later, according to Ryan. Geoff had to pry Gavin’s fingers off of Trevor as Jack and Ryan hauled him into the back of Caleb’s car. Gavin followed quickly behind as Trevor began to drift out of consciousness again. “Trevor, Trevor-“

Trevor looked over at him as he was placed in the seat. Gavin moved to sit next to him, but Caleb pushed him out of the way. “Sorry Gav, the OR isn’t a place for British twinks.” Normally Gavin would’ve sputtered or laughed, but now the tears began to stream down his face again. He didn’t bother responding to Caleb, who was beginning to shut the door. “Trevor, I love you,” Gavin said, as loud as he could without yelling. Trevor looked at him for a few seconds before his eyes closed and the door shut.

As the car drove away and Ryan walked off to begin making calls to arrange getting Michael out, Jack, Geoff, and Lindsay approached. Gavin’s shoulders hunched as Geoff wrapped an arm around him. “Sorry, buddy.”

Gavin sniffed, wiping at his eyes. “I don’t know if Caleb expects me to sleep or something during this, cause I bloody won’t.”

Geoff shrugged, glancing at Jack warily, who raised an eyebrow in return. Gavin didn’t bother asking. “Drink your sorrows away, that’s what I do.”

“Don’t we all?” Lindsay said, mustering up a grin.

“No,” Ryan said loudly enough that they could hear him, covering the receiver of his phone and looking over his shoulder at them. Gavin’s companions broke into small giggles, but Gavin watched as the car drove over a hill. Trevor never had the chance to say it back.

(He did, four days later, when he finally woke up. Caleb had shown Gavin how to take care of him the day after the surgery, gave him three bottles of pills that Gavin would give to him daily, promised Gavin to check up twice a day, then left. Gavin had been sitting in a chair he had set up next to his boyfriend, unsure if he was allowed to sit on the bed next to him. It all felt strange, like he was visiting in a hospital. But Gavin knew the Fake AH Crew protocol- no hospitals. This was still their apartment, with the big windows, three cats, and crazy neighbor lady. It still smelled like smoke and Italian food, and the stain from the second day they had ever lived there still remained on the carpet. He’d pulled a book from Trevor’s bag randomly- still not wanting to pry- and had been reading it over the three days Trevor had been home. _‘The Great Gatsby’,_ or _‘New York Sucks’_ as Gavin liked to call it. That was the drift he was getting, anyway.

He had just begun chapter eight when Trevor’s voice filled the room very suddenly. “Gatsby dies.”

Smee jumped off his lap at the sound, jumping onto the bed to find the source of the voice. Gavin leaned his arm on his knee, staring at Trevor, unsure how to respond. Trevor held out a shaky to Smee, who smelled it for a few moments, then skittered off to go find Egg or Lloyd. Gavin frowned. “I know. I passed tenth grade English, you know.”

Trevor shrugged, then winced in pain, bringing a hand up to his chest, searching for the source of the pain.

“Oh yeah, I wouldn’t move very much. Caleb said too much movement could break the stitches and,” Gavin held up his available hand in air quotations, “’We could have a very serious problem, Gavin’.”

Trevor snorted, his hand falling back into his lap. “So no sex then?”

“We could have sex, but it wouldn’t be very fun.”

Trevor snapped his fingers together. “Damn. Injured sex is, like, number four on my sex-bucket list.”

“It really would’ve sucked if you had died before you completed that then,” Gavin said solemnly, removing the finger that had been keeping his spot in his book and setting it on the bed. Trevor looked at it, then back to Gavin, his face falling. Gavin pursed his lips, then continued. “You actually died twice in surgery. Did you know that? You died.” Gavin’s lip quivered. He wiped quickly at his eyes, then looked back at Trevor, whose face was blank. Gavin let out a long sigh, leaning forward and rubbing his temples. “If you had died, Trevor, I don’t know what I would do. I don’t know! I would move back to England and move back with my parents and become an accountant, and… and, probably start snorting crack, or something-“

“You don’t snort crack, you smoke it. I think you’re thinking of cocaine.”

Gavin flashed Trevor a look. Trevor shrugged. “Just saying.”

Gavin sighed, putting his face in his hands. “I would have killed myself Trevor. Just to be with you, I-“ Gavin choked back a sob. “I couldn’t go on without you. I-“

“Gavin.”

Gavin looked up, Trevor was looking at him now, one of his hands stretched out and a soft look on his face. Gavin took his hand, which was soft and clean. Gavin could remember the sand and blood that had been on it days earlier, how for a few moments, he didn’t have a pulse. But now, it was warm. Gavin could practically feel the blood pumping underneath his fingers.

“Please, please don’t ever kill yourself if something happens to me, alright? If you died I know I wouldn’t be able to go on, but…” Trevor looked down at their fingers, which were locked together tightly. “I know you wouldn’t want me…” Trevor scrunched up his face. “You know what I mean.”

Gavin looked down as Egg wormed her way into the room and jumped up next to Trevor, snuggling into his side. Trevor paid no attention to her. “Yes,” Gavin said slowly.

Trevor sucked in a breath, after a few moments of silence. “I love you, you know.” Gavin looked up, then brought their hands to his lips, kissing the back of Trevor’s hand gently.

“I know.”)

-

There were a lot of things that Gavin regretted in his life. Wearing sandals on a heist. Accepting the offer to help bring down the Austrian Government. The coin argument. Stealing from Ryan’s room. Bringing Trevor back to England with him.

(“It’s our anniversary. Why don’t you want me to come with you?” Trevor had asked over dinner the week before.

“Because,” Gavin said, stabbing the chicken with his fork, frustrated. “Everyone in my family is embarrassingly posh and rich.”

Trevor made a point to look at Gavin’s gold watch and expensive shirt. Gavin rolled his eyes with a scoff. Trevor held open his pals defensively. “Come on, they can’t be any worse than you.”

“It’s a funeral. Why would you want to go to that?”

It was Trevor’s turn to roll his eyes. “Can’t I be your plus-one?”

“I don’t think that’s how funerals work, Trevor.”)

Trevor stood next to him, now- dressed up according to Gavin’s tastes, wearing the same navy suit that he had worn on their first date. Green socks abandoned. It was the nicest outfit Trevor owned (Gavin was flattered), even though Gavin had offered to share. Trevor’s arms were too long and Gavin’s pants would have been too snug. Gavin was dressed similarly, if not better. His gold tie, watch, handkerchief, and sunglasses (“It’s so stormy out, why the hell are you still wearing those?” “It’s my thing.” “What are you going to say when your grandmother compares you to the infamous Vav?”) all clashed nicely with the black jacket and pants. Trevor would stick out like a sore thumb, but Gavin didn’t mention that.

Gavin reached up, ringing the doorbell, then stepping back next to his boyfriend as the haunting ring echoed between them. Gavin’s eyes flicked over to Trevor, who was staring upward at Gavin’s huge house, his lips held tightly together. Gavin looked back as voices etched closer to the door, heels clacking hard against the wood behind the door. “My grandmother will be happy to see you,” Gavin says quickly, basking in the moments where it is just them before they are surrounded by annoying family members and questions are thrown at them.

Trevor shrugged, taking Gavin’s hand. Surprisingly, it was warm, even though it was horribly cold compared to Los Santos. The feeling was reassuring. “She’d probably prefer you to learn Italian instead of your precious boyfriend talking to her.”

Gavin shrugged. “I still know some. Enough to hold a conversation.” Gavin knew that Trevor had grown up with an Italian mother- Gavin only had his mother talking to his grandmother to go off of. Trevor opened his mouth to respond when the door in front of them swung open, a burst of warmth running through Gavin’s body.

Trevor’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hair when everyone began to speak at once. Gavin forced his most charming smile onto his face, eyes flicking from person to person. His mother, all warm, smiling face and pearl jewelry. His father, with his stern face and grey hair. His younger brother and sister, who were on their toes, trying to get a good look at them. His mother’s mum, who was small and frail and talking in rapid Italian. Two cousins and four aunts; an uncle.

Gavin looked over at Trevor briefly, who was attempting to smile at everyone, nodding slowly. Gavin looked back at his family, who were looking between them. Gavin held up his right hand, waving at them weekly. “Hi guys. You know Trevor.”

His grandmother was the first to speak up. “ _sì! il meraviglioso ragazzo_!” She held her arms open expectantly, smiling like a madwoman at Trevor.

Trevor smiled genuinely, stepping forward into her open arms, kissing her on both cheeks. “I like this _uomo_ , Gavino. You keep him.” She pat Trevor’s back good-naturally before she stepped inside, pushing past Olivia and George in the direction of the living room.

Gavin’s mother was next. “Come in, it’s freezing outside. You’d never guess it’s March.” She pulled them inside, moving to hug Gavin tightly. “You’ve gotten thin! You must eat with us after you get cleaned up. Those flights are _horribly_ long!” She moved on to Trevor. “And you!” She tugged him close, pressing her hands to his cheeks. Gavin held on to his fingers loosely, not ready to let go of him yet. “Have you been keeping my Gavin out of trouble?” Trevor let out a wispy laugh. She frowned, leaning in close to his face. “You’ve been cut! We will have to change those bandages.” She lowered her voice. “Were you mugged? I always hated Los Santos, i have no idea how Gavin lives there. I’ve asked him to move many times but-“

“Mum,” Gavin began, but Trevor waved a hand absently.

“It’s fine. Car acident a few weeks back.” Trevor looked over at Gavin, then back to his mother, who was still holding tightly to his cheeks. “My chest and back were worse, but... aha...” Trevor awkwardly trailed off, his eyes looking for anything to focus on.

“Mum, maybe you should let Trevor go. You might reopen that wound, or something.” His mother let him go quickly, still smiling. “Why don’t you two boys get all your stuff up to Gavin’s room. I had Libby clean it all up for you! Come down for dinner whenever you’re ready!” She kissed both of their cheeks then disappeared into the kitchen. Trevor gave Gavin an amused look, which Gavin returned with a look of distaste. As they approached the stairs, they stopped into the living room to greet his father and uncle, who were smoking cigars and discussing politics. His father approved of the cut on Trevor’s face. They passed the cousins and his siblings, who were heavily immersed in a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’. They made it to the ling stairs within a few minutes, Trevor finally speaking up.

“I love your family.”

Gavin focused on the stairs, looking for the cracks and stains he knew his mother worked hard to hide. He loved his family, he did, but when you spent more than half of your life with them, they got overwhelming. But Gavin knew that Trevor’s family life hadn’t been as good as Gavin’s had been, so he bit his tongue. “It’s not the best place to spend our anniversary. There’s no beaches remotely near here.”

Trevor laughed as they reached the top, eyes flicking between the multiple doors. Gavin led them to the one at the far end of the hallway. “We don’t need sand.” Gavin shrugged.

“It always feels like a pivotal part of our relationship,” Gavin said as he opened his door.

Trevor was silent as they entered, walking in front as Gavin shut the door behind him. The room hadn’t changed much- the posters still remained on the wall, and his computer station was dusty in the corner. His large bed sat underneath the window that looked out onto the street, and the bathroom door was open across from it. One of his lamps was on. Gavin waited anxiously for Trevor to react.

“It’s smaller than I expected,” Trevor commented, looking out the window. Gavin snorted, walking behind him to wrap his arms around him. Trevor placed his hands to Gavin’s, before turning around to face him. “I need to shower,” Trevor said as Gavin leaned in to kiss Trevor’s neck. Gavin pulled away, pouting.

“What, no sex in my childhood bedroom while my family could walk in at any moment?”

Trevor rolled his eyes, pulling away. “If this is the same room you masturbated in during puberty, no.”

“I didn’t masturbate much.”

“Me neither.”

Trevor moved towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Gavin didn’t bother saying that his bathroom didn’t have a shower, only a bath. Gavin sat for a few minutes, reminiscing, when he finally heard the water running. When Gavin stood, he stretched, cracking his back, then approaching the bathroom. It was unlocked, just as he had hoped. Trevor sat in the bath, his eyes closed and his head leaning against the edge.  His hair was wet and dripping onto his shoulder and down onto the tile floor, making Gavin’s inner spoiled rich kid twitch uncomfortably. His knees poked slightly above the murky water, both of which were littered with various sized bruises and cuts. His clothes were folded neatly on the tub, his shoes on the floor next to them. Gavin shut the door quietly, making Trevor open an eye to look at him. He didn’t say anything as Gavin stripped down, only closing his eye again. Gavin slipped in, leaning his back into Trevor’s chest. It wasn’t conventional, considering they were both men with, ahem, _appendages_ , but Trevor was warm and familiar.

Gavin closed his eyes, and did not stir until Trevor moved one of his arms so it was wrapped around Gavin and one of his hands was forming reassuring shapes onto his skin. Trevor pressed his mouth to the back of Gavin’s head, and Gavin could feel his cold nose.

“I love you,” Gavin said aloud, breaking the steamy silence.

Trevor leaned back, a slow exhale escaping his mouth. “I love you,” Trevor said back, dropping the ‘too’, as he tended to do. He once said that the ‘too’ always seemed like a way to dismiss it. Like saying ‘too risky’ or ‘too tired’. It lost its meaning, he said. Gavin didn’t complain, Trevor had his own way of doing things. He prefered to take the back roads when they were driving to avoid highways. When he spoke to his mother on the phone the Italian was fast and incomprehensable (That may have been on purpose around Gavin, though). When they were playing their games around town he liked to get complicated- come up with plans and set traps to mess with the other team.

Gavin felt Trevor press his lips to his neck, then his shoulder, then behind his ear, and the skin where his jaw met his neck. Gavin couldn’t hold back the giggle as the kisses became quicker and more ticklish, Trevor peppering them across his neck and back. “You’re awful,” Gavin said, scrunching up his shoulders to hide his neck. Trevor wrapped an arm around Gavin’s waist, holding him tightly. “There’s bloody water on the floor now.”

“Where’d the blood come from?”

“Shut up.”

Trevor placed his chin on Gavin’s shoulder, pressing his nose to the side of his face. He hummed, and Gavin felt the buzz go through his body. They stayed like that, for a long time. The water lost its heat after a while and became lukewarm, but Trevor’s hands still burned Gavin’s skin, whereas his nose was still cold, sending a chill down Gavin’s spine. Trevor broke the comfortable silence first.

“Sorry it isn’t a beach.”

Gavin shrugged, turning as much as he could to look at his boyfriend, whose face was unreadable. He cupped his face, the familiar stubble comforting underneath his wrinkly fingers. Gavin kissed him, quickly, just a peck, but when Gavin pulled away, Trevor’s eyes were closed and his mouth was hanging open slightly.

“Sand is messy, anyway.”

Trevor opened his eyes as his lips spread into a grin, a laughing bursting from his mouth. Gavin grinned into the kiss Trevor gave him, even though his back was really starting to ache.

_-_

_T_ hey broke up.

Twice, actually.

The first one lasted a whole of four weeks. Trevor went virtually missing during that period, and Gavin had begun doing more freelance work than with the crew.

 (Gavin also had sex a grand total of thirty two times. Trevor had dinner with his mother twice and met with his brothers to catch up. Gavin got drunk five out of seven days a week, and ninety percent of the time the drinks were bought for him. The other ten percent were the fine wines he kept in ~~their~~ his pantry. Trevor barely left the motel he was staying in)

They got back together when Trevor came back to town and found Gavin in ~~their~~ his apartment, drunk off of wine, of all things.

The second time hit a bit harder. Trevor had had a close call with the police the night before- something Gavin wasn’t too concerned about. They got Michael out, Trevor wouldn’t have been the first person theyd’ve needed to get out, and probably wouldn’t have been the last. Trevor was shooken up though, didn’t want to repeat the night he had first come to Los Santos, which is what he had told Gavin, at least. He also got drunk, very drunk. For someone who didn’t like alcohol he managed to clear out their stash within the hour of being home.

Gavin was eating cereal and petting Smee absently when Trevor stumbled into their kitchen, hungover for the first time. He looked like shit, but Gavin never had the chance to tease him about it.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said slowly, as if trying to get the taste of the words he had just said out of his mouth.

Gavin sat up straighter, frowning. “Are you still drunk?”

Trevor shook his head. “I-“ Trevor ran a hand quickly across his face and through his hair. “I’m always putting you in danger. The plane thing. Our first date. The car accident. If I ended up in custody I know you’d go to great lengths to get me out of there and could end up getting hurt.”

“I’m not a damn child, Trevor,” Gavin said forcefully, moving to stand up. “I’ve been in this business longer than you have.”

Trevor winced, holding his palms out. “I know that. But,” Trevor began to move towards their bedroom, and Gavin knew exactly what he was going to do. Get dressed. Get his backpack. Leave, return to his mother. Like Gavin wanted to do as well. “I’m getting in the way. You aren’t getting the information like you used to,” Gavin raised an eyebrow, “and you aren’t doing any freelance when I’m here. And I… My little sister is dying.”

Gavin didn’t say anything, staring at Trevor, waiting for him to speak up. Trevor never said much about his family. He had eight siblings. Five boys and two girls. Gavin didn’t know their ages or their names. His mother was born in Italy. He never spoke of a father. Trevor wasn’t around when the last baby was born, but Gavin was there when Trevor received a picture on his phone of a baby with dark hair and tanned skin, just like Trevor. He’d been nineteen at the time, a year after he’d first arrived in Los Santos.

Trevor sucked in a shaky breath. “Her name is Dafne and she’s fourteen.” Trevor’s eyes had gotten glassy at some point. “We have the same birthday,” Trevor added sadly, if not a little awkward. “I need to see her. I’m going to stay there for a long time.”

Gavin, unsure of what to say, just nodded slowly. Trevor took that as all the invitation he needed. He stepped into the bedroom, and was gone within two minutes without saying a goodbye.

-

The cats might’ve taken it worse than Gavin. They sat at the door day after day, meowing and scratching at the wood. It wouldn’t have been a huge deal if it didn’t keep Gavin awake. In retrospect- he probably wouldn’t be sleeping very well anyway. The bed was too cold, the apartment too quiet (excluding the bloody cats, of course). He didn’t have the empty feeling most people described after breakups, though. It was more like the feeling of waiting for someone to come home after a long trip. He was always on edge, anticipating the door to swing open and see Trevor’s beautiful face. There was something different about this one, too. He didn’t have sex, he didn’t drink. He sat at his computer, taking small, easy jobs. Taking money from politicians and giving it to their bastard children. Exposing cheaters. He deleted the scam emails written in Austrian. A normal day in the life of Gavin Free.

He didn’t leave the house very often. He rarely visited the crew’s base, but even then he wasn’t productive. He talked to Michael, or Ryan. He had lunch with Geoff and Jack, once. Life continued, but it wasn’t the same. Things got worse. He couldn’t remember the sound of Trevor’s laugh. He’d run out of mint extract for Trevor’s coffee. He changed his lockscreen on his phone. He called his mother twice a day instead of twice a week. He couldn’t talk to his grandmother anymore, because his Italian wasn’t good enough. The cats stopped crying, but now the apartment was filled with dead silence.

Seven months. Seven months of unproductivity. Seven months of silence. Seven months of small jobs. Barely twenty five thousand dollars were made. Seven months of _pity_ , which Gavin wasn’t used to.

That all came to a screeching halt when, on his way back from the base, he stopped at the beach.

It was nearly empty. It was an unusually cold day in Los Santos, even in mid-January. A few people wandered along here in there. A man with a metal detector. A woman and two children building sandcastles. Two undercover cops who weren’t doing a great job at being undercover. An elderly woman who spoke underneath her breath and had shaky hands.

Gavin parked and made no move to get out of his car. The top was down; he had too much pride to put it up. He could see himself in the mirror. He simultaneously looked the same and different. He still had the large nose and gold sunglasses, but his usually messy sandy hair was flat and his skin was paler than it had been in years. He had a beard now, which he tended to keep trimmed or short, but had grown shaggier than usual. Gavin looked back down at his hands, which were stiff on the steering wheel. So much had changed since he had been in this position. He feels like he should be texting Michael, memorizing what their new crew member looks like. Trevor should be here, reciting “O Captain! My Captain!” to him.

But instead, Gavin was alone, a beeping in the distance, two cops eyeing him suspiciously, and an old lady mumbling the names ‘Jake’ and ‘Roberta’ over and over. He’d go home to his cats. Make tea and check his e-mail. Call his mother. Sleep for thirteen hours.

“This all feels very familiar,” a voice said from beside him.

Gavin looked up, his mouth falling open. He moved his sunglasses to his head, staring straight at Trevor. Trevor looked similar to how Gavin did. The same: his too-small jeans, black sunglasses, five o’clock shadow, odd fashion sense, the backpack. The change: a large bruise underneath his collarbone, his hair longer and unkempt. A sweater Gavin had never seen before, that was black and covered in small, smiling ghosts.  He was leaning against the hood of Gavin’s car, just as he had done the second time they met. There was a smug grin on his face, a grin that Gavin had _missed_ , like he knew the punchline to a joke that he wouldn’t tell Gavin.

This certainly felt like some giant joke. Like Trevor had planned this. He wanted to jump at him- to hug him or punch him, Gavin didn’t know- or run him over with his car, then take him back to the apartment and have crazy sex with him. He had questions, too. He was smiling like everything was okay. Was it his sister? Gavin could kick all the sand at him. He could yell at him, hug him, stab him with his keys.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Gavin said instead.

Trevor’s lips twitched, but his face did not fall. “Gavin,” he said slowly, in a voice Gavin knew. Gavin looked forward, at the rolling waves. The silence was thick and not comfortable like it once was. Gavin could hear the ticking of his watch, and the seagulls in the sky. Trevor’s breathing, slow and controlled, and his own, sharp and shaky. He was antsy. He wasn’t _supposed_ to get antsy. Clumsy and loud, but never _anxious. He didn’t let himself. “Let me in.”_

Gavin looked over at him, once more. He looked sadder, somehow, even though his face hadn’t changed. He let out one more breath, then unlocked the door. “Get in, loser. The cats miss you.”

Trevor made a noise of triumph, swinging open the door, plopping down and setting his backpack at his feet. He quickly reached for Gavin’s hand, bringing it to his lips. He set it down again, but in his own lap. Gavin looked over at him. Trevor’s eyes were closed and his smile had disappeared. But there was still a blissful look on his face, like this was the best thing that ever happened to him. Gavin thinks that this might be his.

-

Scratch that.

They were on the beach, just like they were supposed to be. Their suit pants were rolled up past their ankles and Gavin’s tie was hung loosely around his neck, but Trevor had yet to remove his. They’d ditched their shoes back in the crew’s car after the heist so they could stick their feet in the water, and their hands were linked loosely together was they walked.

Gavin could hear the rest of the crew behind them; Geoff discussing with Jack the amount of money they had gathered and how to split it. Ryan was on the phone, his mask ditched with his shoes, speaking quickly to Jon about dinner when he gets home. Jeremy and Michael were knee deep in the water, splashing each other mercilessly. Lindsay and Mica were hovering near the shore, debating whether they wanted to jump in as well and ruin their dresses. Ray watched quietly, a small smile on his face, despite himself.

“Are you listening, Gavin?” Gavin snapped back to reality, looking back at his boyfriend, who was looking at him expectantly. This was the first heist Trevor had done since he got back; he was still getting back into the swing of things.

“Sorry,” Gavin admitted, knowing Trevor would see right through a lie. “I was watching the others.”

Trevor shrugged, looking down at their hands. “I was saying that you were great today.”

Gavin blushed, looking down. This had been a particularly complicated heist for him. He had snuck into the bank, getting through all of the security and hacking through the system they had set up to protect the vaults. When that was over and done with he shot through waves of cops next to Ryan, then in the copter launched rocket upon rocket at the police choppers. He’d done an okay job. “I’m a little rusty.”

Trevor bumped their shoulders together, knocking Gavin slightly further into the water. Gavin’s feet were now engulfed in the water, nearly to his ankles. Trevor moved ahead, tugging Gavin along. Gavin laughed as he stumbled, Trevor walking backwards and grabbing both of Gavin’s hands. Trevor was grinning, and for once Gavin could read him like an open book.

“I love you,” Trevor said absently, stopping so Gavin nearly ran into him.

“I love you,” Gavin replied, shaking his head with a smile. Trevor didn’t say it first very often. He was uncharacteristically happy. They all would get a rush of adrenaline after heists, that was a given, but Trevor was acting differently. Trevor had _that_ grin on his face, like he knew the punchline to a joke Gavin didn’t know. The others had stopped their chattering behind them, making Gavin look behind him, where they were all watching them expectantly. “What? Why are you all acting so weird?”

They all looked away, returning to their conversations, too loudly and too fake though, like they were doing it for the sole purpose of talking.

Gavin frowned, looking back at Trevor, who had gotten shorter. No, he was on one knee. Gavin’s eyes widened as he looked down at Trevor, who was looking at him, one eyebrow cocked and his mouth crooked up in a smile. “Trevor,” Gavin said, eyeing him.

“Gavin,” Trevor said, mocking Gavin’s tone. Trevor released one of Gavin’s hands, which he immediately brought to his mouth. Trevor reached into his pocket and pulled out a box, making Gavin suck in a breath. “Gavin,” Trevor repeated, “You are the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” Gavin laughed, but it came out a bit like a sob.

 “You are annoying and don’t know the meaning of personal space. You’re so flexible it’s _stupid_ , and you’re so smart but I swear to god you make up most of your vocabulary.” Trevor looked down awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure what to say. He looked up after a moment, his smile wider and more genuine. His tone was no longer joking. “You’re my stars and my sun and my moon and my everything. You’re the ‘too’ I can’t drop, the bruise that won’t go away. You’re my Gatsby and I’m Nick,” Gavin laughed, this time sounding less pathetic, “You’re totally a douche and reckless and for god’s sakes, learn some Italian. But I love you, and for some reason I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Gavin smile was so wide and _dammit_ those were tears running down his face, and the others were watching and this really was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“So Gavin-“

“Yes,” Gavin said loudly, like he was supposed to, bringing his hand down to his chest, nodding quickly.

“Would you let me fin-“ Trevor said, even though he was smiling.

“No. Yes, yes, yes,” Gavin said, pulling Trevor up and tugging him into the tightest hug he could muster. The word tasted so right on his tongue, like it was meant to be there. Trevor was laughing, and when he finally pulled away he realized the others were cheering, but he could only focus on the cold ring that Trevor was slipping onto his finger. He looked back up to his boyfriend, no _, fiancé_ , who was _crying_ , but Gavin imagined he looked much worse. Gavin kissed him then, his arms wrapping around Trevor’s neck tightly. Trevor’s hands fell to his waist and it was perfect, even with the others being noisy.

Gavin pulled away, turning to look at the others, who had their phones out, taking pictures or videos or whatever. Gavin didn’t let go of Trevor when he looked at them. “You _knew_?”

Geoff laughed and shrugged. “Secrets are hard to keep.”

“It wasn’t a secret, stop acting like you knew before everyone else. That’s why this heist was a black tie affair,” Trevor said, rolling his eyes.

Gavin looked back, cupping Trevor’s face to kiss him again. “I love you,” Gavin said when he pulled away, and Gavin didn’t miss when Trevor’s eyes lit up.

“I love you.”

_-_

“Jesus Christ, when was the last time you cleaned the cat litter?”

Gavin didn’t move when Ryan spoke to him, even when he felt his presence enter the room. Ryan had that effect on people. Gavin could hear Jon in the kitchen, talking to Lloyd and Egg absently. Gavin wished that they weren’t here, that he could be alone with his cats and his thoughts. He didn’t need them, or any of the others that had come and gone throughout the past five months. Lindsay came on Mondays (“Your cute kitties make Mondays so much better!”), Michael on Tuesdays (He always tried to insist that Gavin play video games with him, but Gavin’s x-box sat untouched on the coffee table), Ray and Jeremy on Wednesdays (They liked to play video games anyway, but not on Gavin’s system. They liked to sit on the bed beside Gavin and play Mario Kart. They always offered, but Gavin always refused), Jack on Thursdays (Sometimes he’d bring Caiti, who sometimes brought the dogs, making the cats skitter underneath the couch or underneath the covers with Gavin), Geoff on Fridays (He brought his daughter every other week after school. Those were the only times Gavin sat up in bed to play with her), Ryan and Jon came on Saturdays (They were probably the bane of Gavin’s existence at this point. Ryan made sure that Gavin’s bills got paid, that he was eating, drinking, and eating again. Jon played with the cats and cleaned up any mess that they make. Gavin liked it best when they came), and Sundays were B-Team (He was never sure who it was going to be. They didn’t have some sort of schedule, like the others did. But there were things that Gavin came to expect from them. Mica came and chattered away, cutting his hair and giving Gavin some sort of human contact. Steffie and Matt made him shower, shave, wash his face. Kdin and Caleb came and went without much talking, probably only to make sure he had survived the week since one of them had been there). It was a system that Gavin had caught on to quickly. None of them ever told Gavin about some sort of “check up on Gavin” system, but the daily intrusions were something to go by.

“Lindsay,” Gavin replied, closing his eyes as he felt one of the cats jump onto the bed. He could practically hear Ryan’s eye-roll.

Ryan set something onto the bed, but Gavin paid no attention to it. He breathed in for three seconds, out for four. That’s what his mother told him to do. It didn’t work.

“Gavin, you seriously might want to see this. Trevor would want you to.”

Gavin writhed horribly, causing whichever cat to jump off the bed and play with the toy hooked to the wall. Ryan touched one of the lumps that hid his legs. Gavin slowly sat up, looking at Ryan reluctantly. He probably looked like shit. He could almost feel the bags under his eyes, and his hair was greasy from lack of shower since last week. He couldn’t smell himself, but he could imagine that that wasn’t great either. His t-shirt was grown wrinkled and had holes in the collar from where Gavin would chew to stop from sobbing at night, not wanting to wake the neighbors.

In front of Gavin, where Ryan held onto it with one hand, was his backpack.

Well, not his, but… Gavin couldn’t bring himself to say it. It looked the same. Grey and worn, an odd orange patch that was sewn awkwardly in one of the bottom corners. One of the broken pocket zippers was still, almost, intact. Those dumb pins, all nine of them, still hooked in their proper places. The loop at the top for hanging was ripped down the middle.

Gavin sobbed, getting onto his knees and attempting to grab it from Ryan.

Ryan moved back, holding the backpack from Gavin’s grasp.

Gavin gave Ryan a horrible look that he never knew he could do. “ _Where did you get that_?” He managed to choke out, his whole body shaking. Ryan remained flat faced, if not a little put-off.

“Geoff had it. He retrieved it from the plane after-“

“Don’t,” Gavin warned. Ryan carried on, but avoided the subject.

“The point is, Geoff had it. He’s been waiting for you to get your shit together.”

Gavin fell back onto his heels helplessly. Ryan fucking Haywood. Geoff fucking Ramsey.

“Why did you decide today was a good day for that?”

“It’s the first day of summer. It’s beautiful out. Go to the pier, Main Street, _the beach_. Do something for god’s sake.”

Gavin felt one of his eyes twitch as he stared Ryan down. He needed that backpack. Gavin looked down at himself; his underwear, his old shirt, Egg, who had at some point joined him on the bed and was now rubbing at his thigh. He looked like shit, and he hadn’t even looked at the mirror. Gavin looked up again at Ryan, who had an expectant look on his face. “Fine.” Gavin reached forward, looking to grab the bag again. Ryan moved.

“Not until I know you’re leaving the house.”

Gavin exhaled, looking past the open doorway at Jon, who was leaning against the kitchen counter, watching. Gavin looked back at Ryan, then to the ceiling, before slowly getting out of the bed.

When he was standing, Ryan clapped him on that back harshly, causing him to stumble slightly as he approached the dresser. “That’s the spirit.”

Egg trailed behind Gavin as he dug through a drawer, avoiding all clothes that weren’t his. He grabbed jeans and a t-shirt, tugging the jeans on and taking off his shirt. Ryan had moved into the kitchen to join Jon, and Gavin could hear their distant chatter. The ‘I love yous’ and the ‘I love you toos’. The affection that was passing between them. Gavin tugged on his Union Jack shoes, grabbed his sunglasses from off the dresser, and fiddled with his watch as he entered the kitchen. Ryan pulled away from Jon, who was sitting on the counter.

Gavin stood near the door, avoiding looking at them, instead looking at Lloyd as she jumped onto the cat condo, crawling into one of the tunnels. Ryan put a hand on his shoulder, holding out the bag. Gavin stared at it. He tentatively reached forward, taking it from Ryan’s hands slowly. He could almost smell it from here, it smelled like home. Like raspberries and smoke. Mint and Coffee. Gavin’s stomach reeled, leaping into his throat. He could almost feel him.

Gavin held it close to his chest. “Thank you, Ryan,” Ryan smiled, and Gavin looked past him at Jon. “Thank you, too. You guys have kept me sane.”

Ryan released his shoulder, giving him a look of sincerity. “Go get some air. Stuff your nose into other peoples’ business. You’re good at that.”

Gavin looked down at his hands that were clutching the bag, then slung it over one shoulder, reaching for the door handle. He took one last breath, swung open the door, and stepped out.

The ride felt unfamiliar and lonely. The wind in his fair still felt good, though. The music on the radio wasn’t sad like it was in the movies. It was the same upbeat pop that they’d always liked to make fun of. The people on the street were still obnoxious, and none of the stores had changed. The world had been at a standstill for the past five months.

 Gavin turned into the beach parking lot, and felt as if a ghost had entered the car. The ice settled as Gavin pulled into a parking spot, digging underneath Gavin’s skin like a needle. Gavin let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, swinging open the door and stepping out. He grabbed the backpack after a moment of hesitation. He kicked off his shoes, tossing them onto his seat before shutting the door and approaching the sand.

He stood at the sidewalk for a few minutes, looking down at the sand, unsure whether he wanted to step forward or not. He was about to turn and go back home when someone walked by, pushing him onto the sand.

The feelings washed over him very suddenly.

It felt like Gavin had just returned home after a long day at work. The hot grains of sand felt like someone was hugging Gavin with their whole body, like they hadn’t seen him in a while. The sounds of children playing and couples talking and joggers sounded so familiar and so _nice_ that Gavin was inclined to continue down the beach like a normal person, instead of standing there with a funny look on his face. He wasn’t one of those people.

He walked halfway down the beach, then plopped down onto the sand, setting the backpack down in front of him. He pushed his sunglasses further up his nose as he stared down at the bag, unsure whether to dig through it. It felt like Gavin was trespassing, even though he had done far worse in his lifetime. Like he was about to cross an unspoken line. He attempted to focus on other things, the people around him, like he used to. The woman to the right of him had a concealed weapon. A husband and wife fought in hushed voices as their children pretended not to listen. Two people down a ways were watching him warily with their hands close to their belts. Undercover cops.

In one foul swoop he reached forward, tugging the backpack in between his legs so he could hold it properly. His ring felt like ice as he touched it, almost burning his skin. He unzipped it slowly, waiting for something horrible to happen.

Nothing did.

Gavin tentatively reached inside and began to pull out its contents. There were a variety of things inside. Books, ones Gavin recognized. _‘The Man With Night Sweats’, ‘The Great Gatsby’, ‘Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone’_ , and ones he had never seen before. _‘Oxford Pocket: Italian Dictionary’, ‘How To Identify Stars’ **,**_ and _‘Goodnight Moon’_. There were items, too. An old, dirty stuffed bunny that fit in the palm of Gavin’s hand. Keys to a car he didn’t own. A nearly empty bottle of lube. A crushed water bottle with a non-water substance remaining at the bottom. Three pencils in various states and an eraser.  A flip phone, and most horribly, Gavin’s old phone. Gavin held it in his hand, staring at it. There was sand gathered around the home button and underneath the clear case, that Gavin knew wasn’t from this trip to the beach. He held back a sob as he placed it back into the bag, moving on to search the front pocket. A ruined picture of them together, one from Gavin’s happiest moment. Another one, of Gavin on the floor of the apartment, doing a gymnastics move with the cats crawling around him. A photo strip from when they went to the pier. A balled up red tie that Gavin recognized. A pocket knife. An empty wallet except for stolen credit cards. One more pin, which surprisingly wasn’t hooked onto the backpack, that was gold covered in little stars.

Gavin realized he was crying as he zipped it up, and quickly began to rub at his eyes underneath his glasses. Searching for a distraction he quickly pulled out one of the books, The Dictionary, and began to flip through it. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, only that the beach had emptied considerably and that he had read up until the letter p, when a voice materialized from his left.

 _“_ _Ehi, questa è la mia roba_.”

“Sorry, I don’t-“ Gavin looked over and dropped the book and felt his stomach drop with it. For the first time in five months, he allowed himself to say his name. “ _Trevor_?”

And there he was, in all of his glory. He hadn’t changed. His black hair was swept back and his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses. He had the five o’clock shadow that went with the look. His jeans were still too small, and he wore a black t-shirt that showed the phases of the moon. His socks were green and his shoes were purple. His fashion sense was still god-awful. But that didn’t explain how he was _here_.

“Gavin!” Trevor said, removing his hands from his hips and throwing his arms out. “Hello.”

Gavin stood, one of his eyes twitching. He pushed up his sunglasses, getting close to Trevor. He couldn’t be here. He had died in the plane crash. They’d found one of his feet, and the rest was just _gone_ **.** But here he was, standing up, looking down at Gavin expectantly. Gavin wanted to absolutely _deck_ him. “What the- no, _how_ the hell are you here?”

“Uh, I took the bus.” Gavin glared at him, pressing a finger to his chest.

“Trevor _fucking_ Collins where the _f_ _uck_ have you been? I haven’t left the house since you,” Gavin sucked in a breath, “ _Died_. B-Team hasn’t been operating fully. The Fakes can’t take on as many heists without two gettaway drivers. Jack’s been up to his bloody beard in work. Jeremy had a funeral for you, did you know that?” Trevor’s face fell as Gavin’s voice cracked. “Ryan tried to find your family to tell them, but noone ever answered. I guess we know why,” Gavin said harshly stepping back, staring at Trevor.

“Look,” Trevor started, holding out his hands towards Gavin and taking a step forward. Gavin moved away, his eyes wide. Trevor just sighed, giving up. “I couldn’t come back, not until now.”

Gavin didn’t say anything, waiting for him to go on. Trevor didn’t seem to want to, but did anyway. “Because of that crash I was the LSPD’s most wanted criminal. And before you say anything,” Trevor jumped in quickly as Gavin opened his mouth, “I know, _I know_ , I left you, and I’m so, so sorry. It was hard for me. It was hell for you. I don’t expect forgiveness, but...”Trevor’s eyes flicked down to the backpack, then back to Gavin. “I’d like my missing piece.”

Gavin didn’t question whether he meant the bakpack or himself. Gavin looked down at the bag, then back at Trevor, who was staring at Gavin. Gavin exhaled. Trevor was alive, he was safe. He had gotten up to god know what in god knows where, but he was _here_. “Of course you can come back, you idiot,” Gavin said, feeling like his stomach was beginning to settle. Trevor smiled warmly at him, and moved forward, swinging Gavin into a hug. Gavin didn’t move at first, then proceeded to wrap shaky arms around his fiance, breathing him in. Mint and coffee filled his nose, and Gavin swore he could feel the steady heartbeat resonate throughout his body at that moment. Gavin had missed him.

Trevor pulled away, wiping at the tears on Gavin’s face with his thumb. He quickly kissed him, and _yes_ , berries and smoke. Home.

Trevor swopped down, picking up his bag and shoving the contents inside.He stood next to Gavin, watching the sky as the sun set and stars began to glitter in the sky. Gavin searched for Gemini, then Libra, and all the others that Trevor had showed him. They stood in silence for a long time until Gavin broke it, beginning to walk backwards.

“I love you,” Gavin said as Trevor followed.

“I love you,” Trevor replied, falling into step with Gavin.

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” Gavin said, a hint of sadness in his voice as he looked down at their hands, held tightly together. Gavin didn’t think he’d ever let go. Trevor laughed, loud and sweet and it filled the air and _oh god Gavin was gonna cry again_.

“I know.”

-

_Lay us down_

_We’re in love_

-

First, there was Trevor. He was the fourth child of his nine siblings, and was born three months early with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. He stood at the end of the beach, his dress pants rolled up past his ankles and his feet in the water. He bounced anxiously on his toes as he kept his hands clasped tightly behind his back, chewing on his lips. All eight siblings were here, along with his mother. They all sat to Trevor’s left in flimsy folding chairs, dressed up in the clothes that Trevor had bought them. Jeremy and Matt also stood next to him, both shooting thumbs up when he glanced over at them, even though that really didn’t make him feel any better. Other members of the crew sat behind Trevor’s family (There was no room left on the right, damn Gavin’s giant family), all throwing up some sort of “comforting” gesture. Trevor adjusted his red tie for the hundredth time, then the flowers that were pinned onto his coat pocket for the millionth, worried that he would lose them in the water. He eventually put one of his hands in his pocket, holding on tight to the bunny, then locking eyes with Dafne. She grinned a large, toothy grin at him, then turned her attention to the center.

Then, there was Gavin. Born with a golden spoon in his mouth to a rich family in Oxfordshire and all the money a little kid would want. Gavin approached apprehensively, looking at anything other than Trevor, waiting to see him last. His grandmother held tightly onto his right arm and his mother on his left as he walked, slowly, looking down at himself. Black suit, gold tie, gold flowers. Barefoot, pants rolled up. Everything they had planned. Gavin looked over at Geoff, who was desperately holding back tears, attempting to look manly beside Jack, who was not holding back anything. Gavin smiled at them, causing Geoff to immediately break down and turn to Lindsay, who shoved him away and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “man up, bitch”. Gavin looked next to Michael, who was standing next to Gavin’s spot, dressed similarly to Gavin himself. Gavin closed his eyes as they stopped, holding his breath as he could hear Trevor approach and take both his mothers’ and grandmothers’ hands. Gavin opened his eyes as Trevor spoke to them.

 _“_ _Posso avere la mano di tuo figlio in matrimonio_?” Gavin didn’t quite understand, but he had enough basic understanding of weddings to know. Both mothers leaned forward, giving their blessings in one way or another. Trevor kissed both their cheeks, then stepped back, allowing Gavin to kiss them as well.

“Thank you,” He muttered as he hugged them both tightly. His mother slapped him on the back.

“Go get ‘em tiger.” His grandmother kissed his cheek, then held onto his mother for support. “You got yourself a good one.”

“I know,” Gavin said as he turned to take Trevor’s hand, and finally got a good look at him.

Gavin knew what he’d be wearing, of course he would, but seeing him in this light had a different effect on him. He wore the exact same bue suit he always did, with the red tie. His hair was cut exactly the same way and he hadn’t even shaved for the occasion. Gavin but his lip as they reached the water, taking eachothers hands as Gus began to speak.

In the long run, Gavin doesn’t remember a word that Gus said. Not a single one. He remember’s Trevor’s vows, though, and his own.

“Whether near or far, i am always yours, any change in time, we are young again,” Trevor had spoken, almost soft, so Gavin felt like it was just them, in their favorite place in the world.

“In these coming years, many things will change, but the way I feel will remain the same.” Gavin said with all the strength and love he could muster, and god damn it if he cried a little, because Trevor did too and Trevor _never_ cried.

And then they finally, _finally_ , said the ‘I do’s’, and they kissed, and jumped into the water and everyone followed after them, it was just them, really. They stared at eaother, and kissed, and splashed, and kissed again. They went to one of Geoff’s pent houses and Gavin got _drunk_ , but they still danced, because Trevor loved Gavin, even the parts that weren’t him. And they still went home, and fed their cats, like the old married couple they were. They had sex and sat in bed and drank tea until four in the morning and then fell asleep tangled in eachother. Because even with sand in their hair and between their toes, they _l_ _oved_ eachother.

**Author's Note:**

> This fan fiction went through a TON of phases before it became what it was. It was originally Freewood, where Ryan visited Gavin after faking his death. That turned into Freelins, which then turned into the idea that Gavin and Trevor's relationship is based around the existence of the beach. There was also a great amount i did on the side for this version of the ship. for example:  
> -A drawing i did of Trevor and his backpack (its shite but it gives a clear drawing of his backpack and its contents as well as his design)  
> http://tenlittle-cockbites.tumblr.com/post/147001667337/fahc-trevor-from-the-freelins-fic-im-writing  
> -Trevor and Gav in the bathtub  
> http://tenlittle-cockbites.tumblr.com/post/148133707342/gay-criminals-in-a-bathtub  
> -these tags on my blog  
> ~fahc Trevor aesthetic  
> http://tenlittle-cockbites.tumblr.com/tagged/fahc-trevor-aesthetic  
> ~fahc Gavin aesthetic  
> http://tenlittle-cockbites.tumblr.com/tagged/fahc-Gavin-aesthetic  
> ~fahc Freelins aesthetic  
> http://tenlittle-cockbites.tumblr.com/tagged/fahc-freelins-aesthetic  
> -designed Trevor and Gavin's apartment on the sims 3
> 
> but, anyway. I hope you enjoyed this! <3


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